By Drew Adamek

I never thought I would leave the small town I grew up in; as far as I knew the rest of the world only existed in the television. Other cities, other states, were strange, exotic, distant and unreachable places I would only ever read about.
So I’ve kept track of all the cities I’ve slept in and the most memorable night spent in them as a reminder that the world is a lot larger than I can conceive. I love having stories about these cities; I feel like a romantic drifter in a ’40s novel sometimes (especially since I rarely leave the house now). This list isn’t inclusive; it only includes memorable trips.
Here, then, are the (large) American cities I’ve slept in:
1. Chicago.
The once and future home. No need to explain the greatness of this overnight (a lifetime’s worth).
2. Milwaukee.
I had my first heartbreak in this town. I still think about crying on the beach every time I return.
3. Detroit.
I went to a Rosicrucian baptism for my godson. First time I was scared driving through a city.
4. Minneapolis.
Spent an uncomfortable night on the couch after I discovered that the girl I was hitting on at work was my roommate’s girlfriend.
5. Indianapolis.
I slept overnight in the Greyhound station with a hippie chick and a chain-smoking Buddhist monk. We only talked about movies.

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Posted on March 2, 2010

By Steve Yaccino

I was recently jolted from a deep sleep by a surprise 7 a.m. phone call. It was the federal government calling. More specifically, someone from the EPA. It seemed my Freedom of Information Act request was ready. The one I had filed more than three years ago – to track down the yuppie who ratted out the Blommer Chocolate Company. “Do you still want them?” she asked me as if the documents were something she found while cleaning the garage. “Um, yeah.” “Do you still live at the same address?” Since then, I’ve moved five times.
I filed the FOIA request in August 2006 as part of a Beachwood Reporter investigation to uncover the identity of the Fulton River District resident who complained about the smell of chocolate in the air. Since 1939, the neighborhood’s Blommer chocolate factory has pumped its sweet aroma throughout the area and down the capillary avenues that lead to the heart of this city. That smell is a reminder of Chicago’s candy history – the stomping ground for Milk Duds, Tootsie Rolls, Jelly Bellys, and, of course, Wrigley gum. To thousands of workers and residents in the district, the chocolate scent is simply home.
Save one condo dweller. His complaint sparked an EPA citation that found emissions vented from the northeast corner of the factory roof in violation of the 2001 Clean Air Act. To make things right, Blommer would have to install control equipment. Many worried it would also burst the Wonka fantasy.

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Posted on March 1, 2010